


overflow

by abkvs



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abkvs/pseuds/abkvs
Summary: This is the last thing Jonas expected to read. But is it a bad thing?





	

_Ping!_

Jonas doesn't look up from his homework when he hears his phone go off. He's knee deep in math and it's crushing him—but he thinks he's almost got it—

_Ping! Ping!_

—he's close. He's pretty sure he remembers this algorithm… Ugh, it's so—

_Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!_

—hard to remember, and his handwriting was lazy today—

_Pingpingpingpingpingping!_

“Oh my god, shut up!” With an exasperated sigh he grabs his phone to mute it, but when he flips it over, the screen turns on. Every text is from Mitch.

Jonas's brows furrow. Mitch hardly ever texts him, and usually it's only to meet up to work on their project. If Mitch has been harassing him just to go running around in some _stupid_ park at 9:30 at night…

“Ugh, what does he want?” Jonas grumbles and rubs his hand over his face. He unlocks his phone, intent on telling him no, he can't go out tonight, and it's way too late for that anyways—

But then he sees the messages.

> **Mitch | 9:27 pm**  
>  **sptss**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:28 pm**  
>  **fuck.**  
>  **spots.**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:28 pm**  
>  **im fukkn,**  
>  **fuck**  
>  **yuou**  
>  **yr killn me**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:29 pm**  
>  **not fuk u tho**  
>  **fuk me**  
>  **im a fukkn idiot**  
>  **shshitit**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:30 pm**  
>  **have u evr even looked at urslf**  
>  **i cnt stop thinkin about u joery**  
>  **its fukcin me up rl bad**  
>  **u fk me up so bad**

What? Jonas scrolls up through the flurry of texts, trying to figure out what's going on. What's Mitch talking about? He can't tell if Mitch is mad at him for something or not.

> **Jonas | 9:30 pm**  
>  **Mitch, what?**

The reply comes in seconds.

> **Mitch | 9:31 pm**  
>  **im talkn bout yooouuuu**  
>  **fuk ic ant stand you**

Jonas pulls his head back. Well that's rude. And here he thought they were starting to get along… He starts to type out an angry response, but then his phone pings again and Jonas is struck dumb.

> **Mitch | 9:31 pm**  
>  **ur so fukin cute**  
>  **i want you so badd**  
>  **dbjfj shitt**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:32 pm**  
>  **duk**  
>  ***fuk**  
>  **u got me so hard jnss**  
>  **wwana touhc youu**  
>  **wna tuch u all over r**

Jonas's phone falls out of his hands and lands with a clatter on his homework. What? _What?_ This has to be a cruel joke.

_Ping! Ping!_

The messages are still coming… Jonas can hardly breathe. His hands tremble as he picks his phone back up.

> **Mitch | 9:33 pm**  
>  **u got no idea how mny times I jrked of f think in about u**  
>  **id kill a guy just for u to sit on ym faccee**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:34 pm**  
>  **shitt**  
>  **wwanna eat u out fr days**  
>  **i cold make u fel so good j[ey**  
>  **toung ur ass til u cnt breth**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:35 pm**  
>  **wnt u 2 grind on my fase**  
>  **ur laugh is so gorgeoeiusus n i bet u moan evn betr**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:36 pm**  
>  **fukck im so hard**  
>  **wish u wer heer**  
>  **id put my mouth al ovr uoy**  
>  **i could suk u off so good**  
>  **id swaloww for u**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:37 pm**  
>  **no 1 else tho**  
>  **just u**

Jonas's chest is tighter than it's ever been. How is he supposed to feel about this? He's pretty sure he should be repulsed by the idea of Mitch Mueller sending him dirty texts. He's pretty sure he should be disgusted by the idea of Mitch wanting him like that. He should tell him off. He should tell him to stop. But… he can't. He can't make his thumbs move. He can't make the word come out.

Instead, he types without thinking.

> **Jonas | 9:38 pm**  
>  **Are you being serious, Mitch?**  
>  **Are you drinking?**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:39 pm**  
>  **im drink as fukcc**  
>  **bt I stil want u wen im sobr**  
>  **i want u every dayall of the time**  
>  **25/7**  
>  **wen i left I thout id get over u but i cannt**
> 
> **Jonas | 9:40 pm**  
>  **When you left?**  
>  **You mean when you moved away, 2 years ago???**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:40 pm**  
>  **fuckk!!!! yses!!!!!#**

This isn't real. There's no way.

> **Jonas | 9:41 pm**  
>  **I don't understand, Mitch.**  
>  **This isn't funny.**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:42 pm**  
>  **i bet ur ass is so tighght**  
>  **u ever dunit be for?**  
>  **id2 b so gnttl with u**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:43 pm**  
>  **go nice n slo**  
>  **open u up**  
>  **wwaana heer u beg for it,**  
>  **wna make u moan**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:44 pm**  
>  **fuk u have such a nkce as,s**  
>  **wna fill u up**  
>  **strech u opn aarrround m cock**  
>  **wna cum in u so badd**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:45 pm**  
>  **I cold b gud 2 u if ud giv me a chanse**  
>  **id do anythn for u**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:46 pm**  
>  **id fuk u newere, angytime**  
>  **dont matr whwre**  
>  **we culd break in ur martrss**  
>  **th bathrm at schol**  
>  **lockr room**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:47 pm**  
>  **id eat u out on a fuckin stage of thats whaght u wantd joeoy**  
>  **wna know wat ud feel like wrapd around my dick**
> 
> **Mitch | 9:48 pm**  
>  **wnt u t moan my name**  
>  **wwant u 2 b mine**

Jonas is staring wide-eyed at the screen as each new message pops up. His hand is clapped over his open mouth as he sits in stunned silence. His brain is absolutely fried.

He tries to ignore the little pang of sadness in his gut when no new messages come. Suddenly the room feels too quiet. The house is too quiet.

…Everyone is asleep…

A thought possesses Jonas that any other night he'd find crazy: he's going to sneak out.

It's a stupid idea, but he needs to see Mitch. He needs to give him a piece of his mind in a way that text messages just don't quite do.

> **Jonas | 9:55 pm**  
>  **Mitch.**  
>  **Stop.**  
>  **I'm coming over. We need to talk.**  
>  **Sober up, okay?**

Once he's outside—somehow—miraculously— Jonas slams down his board and skates like his life depends on it. He tells himself he's angry. He tells himself he's going to give Mitch a stern talking to. He ignores the fluttering in his stomach. He ignores the logical part of his brain telling him that he doesn't need to go see Mitch to give him what for. He just skates, going and going and going until he reaches Mitch's trailer park.

Jonas swallows thickly as he walks towards Mitch's house. His aunt isn't home, he knows. She's working late. Mitch had told him as much in passing the other day. He didn't think that information would come in handy, but it's the last straw that has him knocking on the door.

Mitch doesn't answer. Jonas knocks again. He hears a shuffling inside, then a thud and a curse. Finally, the door opens, and there's Mitch, in his underwear, staring awkwardly down at Jonas.

Jonas purses his lips as his brain goes blank.

Mitch says, “Do you want to—” and Jonas blurts out “Yes,” without even thinking.

They don't make it any further than closing the door before they're all over each other. Mitch takes him up against the door—buried so deep—Jonas's legs wrapped around his waist—God, it's so good and Jonas can't stop screaming Mitch's name and the whole trailer park can probably hear but he doesn't care. Jonas doesn't care about anything other than this exact moment, where he's all wrapped up in someone who cares about him. _Mitch_ cares about him. 

Jonas is pretty sure he feels the same.

No—

No, not pretty sure.

Pink light is swirling around both of them and he _knows_ —he knows he feels _exactly_ the same.


End file.
